Spoil of War
by Fallynleaf
Summary: T'Pring/the Romulan Commander from "The Enterprise Incident". Right after the Romulan Commander has obtained her position, years before the Enterprise goes on its five-year mission, she encounters a Vulcan woman who will threaten her ability to command.


**Warning: **Contains references to sexual encounters between two women. Describes not-quite graphic female/female sex. Focuses on a pairing not supported in the least in canon (well, unless one counts the line "Romulan women are not like Vulcan females"). In simple terms: **here be crack femslash**.

**Note:** This was written for the sole purpose of personal indulgence. I'm posting it because multiple people have expressed interest in reading more of this ship, and so I figure if other people can enjoy it then they might as well.

However, I do not claim to know much of anything about Romulan government or politics, or for that matter, _Vulcan_ government or politics. My impression of Romulans and their relationship with Vulcans comes mostly from the episode "The Enterprise Incident" and slightly from what little I can remember of "Balance of Terror". I am aware that the first part of this fic is probably unrealistic. But seeing as this ship is already crack, I think that one should be able to suspend one's disbelief enough to at least ignore it and simply pretend that T'Pring ended up on the Romulan Commander's ship some other way.

And, for the ease of writing and for discussing the characters, in this fic I have given the Romulan Commander the name "Joanna" (after the actress who played her, Joanne Linville). Feel free to replace this name with any other of your choice. It doesn't really affect the story.

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* * *

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**_Spoil of War_**

"It's a Vulcan ship, Commander." A voice said, sure and quick behind her.

Joanna got to her feet, strolling the length of the bridge, _her_ bridge, feeling the pressure of the ship against her boots. She sighed and reached her arms over her head, settling into her position with confidence that she could fill it with ease. For years, she had fought her way through the harsh system of command. Of course, she had proved herself again and again to be worth every minute invested in her training.

"Take them down. They made the wrong choice to invade our empire." Joanna ordered. She hadn't been Commander long. This was her first test, the first challenge the universe offered her. If she didn't muddle it up, her future would be secure. And her ambitions would finally be satisfied.

"Very well, Commander." The Romulan said.

"Commander!" Another Romulan called, her voice layered with curiosity. "Their captain has requested a diplomacy meeting. What is your response?"

"Diplomacy?" Joanna said, holding back an undignified snort. She yearned to see the shining exterior of that ship burst at the hand of her control. With all of the vitality of her youth, she wanted to exercise her freedom, wanted to show them all that she held power. But commanding wasn't about personal wishes, and she knew that she had to respect that or she'd lose everything. "Very well. I will allow a diplomacy meeting. It will, however, take place on _my_ ship and there will be no tricks or we will destroy them."

Her message was relayed, and there was a moment's silence on the bridge.

Then there was a flurry of communications between the two ships. Eventually, three Vulcans were beamed aboard, and Joanna felt the eagerness for the coming debate swell up inside her as she approached them.

A quick survey of her new prisoners didn't reveal much. There was an older Vulcan male of a middling age, weathered and appearing used to this sort of situation. His hand was firmly clasping the shoulder of a younger female, her eyes opened wide in the novelty of the matter, but shining cold and unexcited despite everything. _Typical Vulcan_, Joanna thought, narrowing her eyes. The third prisoner was a female elder. Raising an eyebrow, Joanna realized that she recognized her. _T'Pau_.

"So am I correct to assume that this meeting was youridea, T'Pau?" Joanna asked, tipping her head slightly as she examined the unemotional masks each Vulcan wore on their faces.

"Indeed." T'Pau said.

"I know that all of you are aware that your movements have been interpreted as an invasion against our Empire. If you are unable to convince me otherwise, then I will destroy your ship and keep all three of you as prisoners of the Empire. If you should choose to make any move that may be interpreted as offensive, then I will destroy your ship. If this meeting turns out to be a ploy, then I will destroy your ship."

"Your conditions have been understood. I am Ambassador Sorn, and I will explain why we are here." The male Vulcan said. "Our two species are not so very distant from each other. We decided to take the path of logic, you did not."

"Our shared ancestry alone will not grant you mercy." Joanna said.

"No, it will not. But we haven't come to enter into a war against our cousins. Instead, we wish to offer something more… useful to your magnificent Empire."

"And what do you have that we could possibly use?" Joanna scoffed. "We have greater technology, a greater army, greater independence…" she sighed and swept herself around, facing away from the prisoners, growing bored with the conversation.

"We hold the knowledge of forgotten skills that have grown cold in your veins. We could make your army even greater! With our two races combined, we could bring down the Federation." Sorn's eyes lit up in a very unsettling way. Joanna would have assumed that it was all merely a ruse were it not for the startled glance of the young Vulcan female at the Ambassador and a brief glitter of suspicion in T'Pau's stoic gaze.

Joanna smiled, relishing the freedom to delight in emotion. It was all rather nice, the betrayal and tension stiff in the air. "Ah. But I believe _you've_ forgotten something. There is no Vulcan ambassador named Sorn."

That was when the first phaser blast put a dreadful mark in the wall. The five Romulan security guards all lunged for Sorn and it became a wrestle for possession of the phaser, which was being aimed dangerously in every direction as the Vulcan's limb flailed about wildly in his attempt to free himself. It was obvious to Joanna that something was decidedly _off_ about him. It made no sense to bring a phaser aboard her ship if the intention really _was_ diplomacy, which it had to have been, because T'Pau was making no attempt to struggle as two Romulans secured her as well.

The Vulcan girl seemed to be too much in shock to do much for herself. Either that, or she was too inexperienced to know what to do and was logically, and wisely, following T'Pau's lead. Joanna noticed that Sorn was still tightly grasping the girl's shoulder and felt a strange pity for her, because it had to be painful the way his fingers were biting into her skin, clamped tighter than a vise.

The phaser incinerated one of the Romulan guards and Joanna frowned, disliking the evidence that her men were incompetent.

"T'Pau, why have you come?" Joanna asked.

"I came hither because of a lie." T'Pau said simply. Any further elaboration was unnecessary.

Somehow, Sorn managed to communicate something to his ship and six more Vulcans were beamed aboard. Joanna knew when she had no place at a battle. She quickly summoned more Romulans, not destroying the other ship, not yet, and left the bridge, ordering two of her men to bring T'Pau and the girl after her.

"How many were with you?" She asked T'Pau.

"Thirty-nine."

"Your rank allows you command over them?" Joanna asked.

"Yes."

"Then I grant you permission to return. Stop all of this. Any Vulcans on my ship will be taken prisoner if they are not destroyed in the fight. Your ship is free to leave." Joanna hissed, knowing that there was no reason to retain T'Pau because she had truly been unaware of Sorn's madness.

T'Pau inclined her head, showing Joanna that she understood. She gave a last, questioning glance at the girl, and Joanna knew that she was asking after her fate.

"She is a spoil of war." Joanna gave as her only answer.

T'Pau simply dissolved without a further word, and the Vulcan girl made some sort of noise, maybe a last attempt to call out to her. Joanna smiled and told the guards to release the girl. After they did what she said and ran to give their aid in the struggle at the bridge, Joanna stepped nearer to the Vulcan.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"I am T'Pring." The voice remained collected even after the girl had been abandoned by both her father and T'Pau. Joanna wondered if it was because of the philosophy of logic, or if the girl was just naturally strong of will.

"I kept you to save you from the disgrace of your people." Joanna said by way of explanation. "Your father…"

"He did not adhere to Surak's philosophies." T'Pring said. "He deserved to fall. Better him alone then the rest of my people with him."

"And you have been aware of this for awhile?"

T'Pring stayed silent for a minute as if she were debating how to answer. She finally opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter another word, another voice called to Joanna.

"Commander, all of the enemy personnel have been subdued."

"How many remain alive?" she asked.

"N-none."

"Why are you nervous? It doesn't matter to me if they are dead or not." She did, however, cast a quick glance at T'Pring to see if she could catch even a flicker of emotion on the girl's face at hearing about the death of her father. There was nothing. Grudgingly, she let herself be impressed. "How many men did I lose?" she asked the Romulan soldier.

"Nine, Commander."

"That isn't acceptable! Next time, you will do better, or I will tell the Empire that you are incompetent and request better-trained men! If I must, I will guarantee the end of your career." She turned away and started for her quarters, nearly forgetting about T'Pring until she remembered that the girl still had information to give her.

"Come, girl. T'Pring." Joanna said, something akin to fury blazing inside her for no discernable reason.

She had T'Pring take a seat before she sat down herself.

"I asked you, before we were interrupted, if you had known about your father's instability for a while. Can you give me an answer now?" Joanna asked, letting the irritation in her voice show in hopes of provoking the girl into losing her careful composure.

"Yes. I have known that he wasn't thinking logically for many years. But it had always been small things. Until now." She didn't meet Joanna's eyes, but Joanna assumed that it was a gesture of respect and an acknowledgement of the girl's inferiority rather than an inability to match her captor's strength of will.

"Then you knew about none of this?"

"He told me nothing. I placed my trust in him, and it ended up being unfounded. It was an error in my logic and unacceptable." T'Pring sat with her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap, the exact image of a flawless, professional Vulcan. Joanna couldn't help but be intrigued. She had assumed that her reasoning behind her claiming of the girl had been out of pity, but now she wondered if the girl had attracted her interest for a different reason.

* * *

T'Pring was only a few years younger than Joanna. It was her mannerisms and delicate perfection that made her seem even younger, as if she were just a fragile thing, easily swept into the chaos of the world around her. Her parents did not have high reputations, and her family would have certainly fallen into disgrace now. Joanna slowly begun to build a picture of T'Pring's existence in her mind, and she would spend hours each day conversing with the Vulcan girl.

When the praetor's report came, Joanna's body was sprawled across her chair, one arm folded and supporting her head, her other hand curled around a drinking glass. Surprisingly, she was complimented on her actions and was even given the courtesy of deciding what to do with her single Vulcan prisoner. It wasn't a difficult decision. Especially not after she had grown used to the girl being there to entertain her when she wasn't on duty.

Then she had a sudden urge that T'Pring would no doubt deem illogical.

"T'Pring, do you know how to dance?" she asked, testing the girl's reaction to her question.

"Yes." T'Pring said hesitantly, unsure.

"But you aren't very practiced." Joanna said, knowing that she had guessed right.

"That is correct."

"Then what better time than now to learn?" Joanna stood abruptly and commanded her quarters to play music, something low and medium-paced, something to allow them to find a rhythm first. T'Pring was wearing a simple dress, of Romulan make, of course. It was white and secure around her form. Joanna came to the strange realization that T'Pring was beautiful like this. When she allowed herself to be spontaneous and not so very precise, simply letting the dress whisper against her legs without worrying about keeping it neat and in her control.

Touching T'Pring was also rather fascinating. The girl's narrow fingers were cool to the touch, and they lacked the rough wear of a worker's, or even the gentle wear from the effort of command that Joanna's own fingers had. The merest of touches sent a tremor through Joanna's body, and she paused briefly mid-step to consider its source. She hadn't known that her body could sing like this, and all for a single individual. Once glance at T'Pring showed her that she wasn't alone in this revelation.

Then the music caught her ear, and her hand had intertwined itself with T'Pring's on its own accord, and Joanna let the heat of the movement rob her of her judgment. Sometimes, it wasn't worth it to protest against her nature, and right now, possibly for the first time, her body was demanding as much physical contact as she could receive.

Long after the first song had blended into the next, and then the next, until everything was a continuous, rhythmic beat of sound and sensation, Joanna seated herself and waited for the world of duty and ambition to stop spinning and settle into something she could focus on.

She made the mistake of seeking T'Pring's eyes with her own in an attempt to gauge the girl's breathless reaction. What she saw instead was the triumphant stare of a girl just beginning to realize the power that she literally had at her fingertips, the bloom of a passionate spirit igniting at the slightest brush of dry kindling.

T'Pring was learning that her captor didn't have to dominate her.

* * *

The night after dancing with T'Pring for the first time, Joanna dreamed. There was no light and total darkness swathed her. She knew, however, by the sound and feel of her feet against the floor that she was aboard her ship. Something bright flared briefly ahead in her vision before it dimmed again and was gone. Joanna ran, but did not grow tired, winding through the hallways and corridors before she found the source of the light.

It was T'Pring. She wore no clothes, but her hair was wound up tightly and neat upon her head and she had a defiant stare on her face that caused Joanna to reflexively take a step backwards. Her entire body shone luminescent and soft, almost the glow of candlelight.

Joanna gathered all of her will and stared back.

Dark and light, each the sharpness of an extreme, they overpowered each other. Maybe it was because Joanna had to fight so hard against T'Pring to win her that she very much wanted her. It was a form of conquest. Win, and gain more to add to the great empire, lose, and face the shame of defeat. Nothing real to gain and everything to lose. Just like the state of command.

Joanna reached for that shining skin, unblemished and smooth. Her finger met the prickle of frost as it trailed down T'Pring's arm, quickly igniting a blaze of warmth in both of their bodies. Maybe it was the lust of conquest, then, that caused her to lean forward in such a way, scrambling for those pretty fingers to hold against the wall and stroke with a confident touch as she caged the girl with her body.

There was little flesh-to-flesh contact. It was all the thrill of domination, the passion of a body's shapes aching to mold to her contours, growing frenzied as she denied it. At some point, T'Pring's ever-so-precise hair came tumbling down in a great chaotic mess of freedom and abandon.

When Joanna finally woke, flushed and quivering, the last impression she had of the dream was of the touching of their hands.

She lay there and waited for her breathing to slow. Joanna had never dreamt of this form of desire before. It was unsettling to think that there was a distraction in her solid hold of command. Unsettling to think that the mere brushing of fingertips could change her mind's focus so drastically. She wondered if these feelings of unease were what drove the Vulcans away from their passions and into the sterility of logic. If so, then it made sense, in a way. The strength of the desire for pleasure could never match that of ambition. If it did, then her ability to command could be compromised, and her world would crumble down all around her until she no longer had anything left to cling onto to allow herself to rise again.

* * *

After that night, she began to avoid T'Pring. It took a lot of effort to keep herself from returning to the girl, though Joanna yearned to prove to her that she wasn't afraid of a mere Vulcan child. Or at least, that was how her mind interpreted this desire. She could tell, however, in the smug look on T'Pring's face during their chance encounters in the ship's corridors that T'Pring did indeed think that Joanna's deliberate avoidance of her meant that she was winning.

And Joanna needed to change that. Competition was what drove her to become what she was, so it would be for the best if she simply stopped resisting it. And so she did.

"T'Pring." She called to the girl. "Meet me in my quarters after hours."

T'Pring replied with a calm "So be it." And then she was gone, turning the corner at the end of the hallway.

A strange sense of relief filled Joanna, as if she had been needing this. It was true that she had become accustomed to seeing T'Pring after long hours of command, when they would speak of philosophy and music and whatever else came to mind, drinking the finest beverages and comparing their cultures. The only places T'Pring could never be allowed to go were the bridge, the engineering decks, and other places where important duties were carried out to run the ship. It wasn't because she was necessarily a danger, though she certainly had the determination and means to become one, it was rather because Joanna did not want her personal and professional lives getting blended. She knew that if they did, she would let her passions rule her and would be unfit for command.

And so that was what led her into dancing a second time with T'Pring. By now, they knew each other. T'Pring knew some of Joanna's personal conflicts, and methods of resolving them, and Joanna was beginning to grasp the intricacies of a mind that has let go of emotion. This was reflected in their dance. Gone was the novelty of it, the awkwardness of a beginning. Gone was the sense of innocence, of no knowing what was to come.

No, Joanna seemed to know that most of all.

It wasn't a surprise when her fingers wandered past T'Pring's hands and onto her shoulders, roaming over the delicate areas of her neck, applying a slight pressure in just the right places to illicit a gasp. So fragile, yet so desirable. Joanna thought absentmindedly.

The music died. Maybe she uttered a word of authority that caused it to stop. Maybe not. It was unimportant, so she quickly discarded the thought from her mind.

All that she was aware of was T'Pring, cold, apathetic, unfeeling _T'Pring_, unraveling beneath her touch. And then her fingers were nimble at the fastenings on T'Pring's dress, and Joanna did not know what was possessing her to unclothe the girl so urgently, but it was a strong possession, and she wasn't quite sure how to go about resisting it, or even if she _wanted_ to resist. It wasn't a familiar thing to her at all. And that should have made her careful, but she wasn't.

Something was wrong.

Joanna was cupping warm flesh in her hands, and she was almost purring, her body vibrating with the energy of everything. T'Pring wriggled, soft and lithe, breathing hard with a scarlet flush building in her cheeks. The dress was on the floor, a jagged tear where too-eager fingers had forced the fabric.

And then it occurred to Joanna to simply look. So she did, taking a step backwards, letting her gaze sweep over T'Pring's bare form, taking in all of the little shadows and intensities nestled in the curves of her flesh. At that moment, she found herself unable to continue referring to T'Pring as "the girl". No, T'Pring wasn't just a girl. She was a woman with the form and mind of an adult. It was dangerous, a warning sign. And for a while, it caused Joanna to grapple with herself in an attempt to wrestle her mind back onto the focus of her career.

She turned away, allowing the-, _T'Pring_, to believe that she was displeased with what she saw.

"Leave me. Exit my quarters and return to your own." She said, exercising her voice into a weak parody of non-emotion.

There was a rustle, the sound of T'Pring clothing herself, and without another word, they had separated again and Joanna was alone.

She dared explore the reaches of her mind, then, wondering where all of these impulsive actions had sprung from. She wasn't familiar with this form of combat. It _was_ combat, however, each individual trading moves, reading the other, making guesses, readjusting them after each minute defeat… All of her drilled battle strategies were useless in this situation.

Especially since for the first time, Joanna wasn't sure that she wanted to win. Winning didn't necessarily equate conquest here. It meant insuring that T'Pring would continue to remain a distraction.

Of course, none of her conscious resolutions did anything to prevent the dreams from happening.

* * *

It wasn't worth it to avoid T'Pring anymore. Joanna constantly thought of her, both of her figure and her mind, as well as how they felt. When she dreamed, T'Pring would be there, and every time, Joanna would win. She would find the one weak point in the Vulcan mask, and all of the barriers between the Vulcan and herself would collapse.

Also, T'Pring seemed to coordinate her meandering of the ship so that her paths would constantly intersect with Joanna's. Either T'Pring had always particularly ruthless for a Vulcan, or the time spent on a Romulan vessel had started to make her more Romulan. There were no outright drastic changes, maybe nothing more than a subtle shift in how she presented herself, but Joanna certainly noticed it.

Joanna continued to dance with T'Pring just to prove that she could. She learned to treat it as an exercise of her control, a test of her skill in serving the Empire alike to the many she had already overcame before her ambitions were realized. And maybe she might have managed to stay in control if things hadn't happened the way they did.

Because one day, T'Pring grabbed Joanna's hand and brushed a sharp tongue across her fingertips, almost as if she were simply curious to experience how they tasted.

And Joanna realized that command, her ambition, even the Empire, were worth nothing compared to the pleasure T'Pring had just offered to give her.

One hand pulled T'Pring toward her, and the other went for the Vulcan woman's hand to allow their fingers to intertwine and their sensations to mingle. Again, fabric was beneath her fingers, falling to the floor, leaving T'Pring, and then Joanna, free and unhindered. There was no time to look, no way to focus her mind, so Joanna found it easy to give in to whatever this was that was so many times greater than any experience her dreams could give her.

Neither of them had ever done anything like this before. Sexual contact with a prisoner was freely allowed, and Joanna also had complete freedom regarding her choice of a mate, so it wasn't so much that she'd never had the opportunity to explore this intriguing aspect of her physiology, but rather that she had never experienced the desire to.

Whatever T'Pring felt was trivial to the matter. She seemed as willing and as able as Joanna to follow this lust through to its logical end, and so they proceeded accordingly.

* * *

**Note:** I am part of the way through writing another chapter to this.

Actually, I have developed my own canon for this ship that extends over a period of years and dances with TOS!canon. If I continue writing this story at this rate, it will go on for many more thousands of words.

Whether or not I post more of it or even finish it depends on how things go.

So, I guess this is a warning. I'm not very dependable regarding my WIP's, and so this may be all that you get.

If I do end up posting the next chapter, it will be from T'Pring's point of view.


End file.
